Your Next Bold Move
by FemaleSpock
Summary: He didn't play Chess; his game was far more complicated. Aarch/Artegor, Aarch/Adium.


Your Next Bold Move

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction.**

**The title is from the name of an Ani DiFranco song. (I really need to stop making fanfiction titles references to stuff!)**

He'd been seven, when he was first taught how to play chess. Apparently it was something every thinking man should learn. Artegor hadn't found it particularly difficult, strategy just came naturally to him, but he'd never really enjoyed playing- it was just another chore. Even winning wasn't satisfying, he had the distinct feeling that his tutor allowed him to win, and Artegor detested that.

Had he found a suitable opponents things might have been different; he might have loved playing.

Instead, his interests turned towards football. There was enough competition there and strategy certainly played a major part in the game. Although, his real competition, played for the same side as he did.

They were travelling to the Rykers' planet, for a match- the journey was so long, it was dragging on and on. Artegor noticed a chess board, sticking out of the box of games that someone had put on the ship, presumably so they wouldn't get bored on these long journeys. Of all the games, it was most tolerable, and he had to admit, he was curious to see what would happen if he played off against Aarch.

"Do you want to play?" he asked, gesturing the direction of the board.

"Chess? I don't know how to play," Aarch replied, having no wish to learn to either, he would stick to football.

Artegor shrugged and let it go; it had only been a passing whim anyways. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long before they finally reached Unadar.

Aarch preferred to play a far more complex game, as Artegor was about to find out. It was all so subtle, even Aarch probably didn't realise he was playing at all.

Weeks later…

"I think there's a flaw in the Wamba's defence," Artegor stated, looking to Aarch to see whether he agreed.

"They-" Aarch started before being startled by the chime of the doorbell.

"Hey," Adium said, after Aarch had let her in. She walked straight into their room, boldly sitting down on Aarch's bed.

"Hi," Aarch replied, turning to focus his attention on her.

Artegor started to mumble a greeting but stopped when he realised the pointlessness of it, given that Aarch and Adium seemed to be locked in the romantic version of a staring contest. They all sat there in silence, awkwardly.

Aarch threw Artegor a look, as if to say 'go, make an excuse but just go.'

But he didn't want to go, he didn't want to be there either, but he didn't want to leave the two of them alone. Adium had invaded _their_ space and now he was expected to vacate so that she could take him too. It just seemed unfair.

Aarch was still looking at him. It was a challenge almost.

Finally, Artegor broke. "I'm going to do some extra training, I'll see you later."

It was the truth, of course, he did train. Ran, dribbled, kicked. On the pitch all by himself, a single figure under a lonely sky. He played hard, just to get rid of all the thoughts running through his head, to lose himself in an imaginary game, so much larger than himself. To sweat it all out.

Hours later, he skulked back to his room, exhausted to the bone.

"You look tired. Good training?" Aarch asked, so naturally that Artegor felt he must have imagine the challenge in his eyes before. They were friends, still, that much was obvious.

Aarch was just so trustworthy, that was the problem, that was Artegor's problem.

Aarch and Adium had become pretty much inseparable, making them completely insufferable in the process. They were always going off together, holding hands, abandoning their roommates in the process.

Everyone else found it sweet.

"He's my white knight," Adium commented, smiling sweetly, talking to the other girls on the team. Artegor rolled his eyes, from the corner in which he was sitting alone, but the idea stuck in his mind somehow.

A month later…

Artegor glanced at Aarch, the looked away, and took a swig of beer instead.

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" Aarch asked, calmly, as if what he had just said wasn't completely out of no-where.

"W-what?"

"Why don't you just do it, rather than sit there thinking about it?"

"What about Adium?"

For a moment guilt clouded Aarch's face. "What about her?"

Flippant, so flippant, for someone who knew what he was doing was wrong. But his need for control was greater than morality. It was why he couldn't allow himself to fall in love, not properly.

Artegor shrugged and made his move. He laid all his frustration on Aarch with a single kiss.

Aarch smiled, just smiled. This was the start, not the absolute beginning, but it was theirs- the beginning of the middlegame he supposed. Now that the preliminary moves had been made, setting the stage for everything that was to come.

It all continued from there, and looking back, Artegor should have been more wary, he should have known that this wasn't right in any sense of the word. But it was easy to forget about Adium, Aarch had made him short-sighted, unable to see anything else. He'd always been suspicious, strategic in getting what he wanted, but Aarch seemed so guileless, it just made him drop his guard, to be in the moment instead of constantly looking ahead.

No-one had any clue what was coming next, it would affect them all so deeply, but they were oblivious to the impending disaster. It seemed like these teenage romances, each match, was everything, it was their world.

The ice-age was something else, something that cut them all far deeper, something that was part of a separate game (although they didn't know it) between two little scientists and Technoid.

It was something more dangerous, as well, it was an accident.

They were all shaken by it, shaken by the fact that so often their own fate was out of their hands, Aarch especially although he didn't show it.

No, he did what he could to escape the thought, to pretend it didn't happen. He left Akillian, went to the Shadows, took Artegor along because he knew that he would come. It let him have some sort of power in the face of not having any. He would have asked Adium, but he knew that she wouldn't have come; she would have wanted to stay behind and be with her family.

He hadn't planned for this but he preferred to act as if he had, the Shadows were a truly great team, their move their made sense in terms of his career anyway (even excepting the fact that they could no longer play for their native team, because there was no team to play for anymore).

And it was fine for a while, they played for the Shadows, were together, and everything was fine.

The only problem was the isolation, Aarch needed people, he needed people around him. The Shadows were mostly immune to his charms, it was so hard to tell what they were thinking, what it was they really wanted from life. He found them as cold as the planet he had abandoned.

Then there was the matter of Smog Poisoning, it was real for him, despite Artegor's later claims that it wasn't, that it was just an excuse. It was too much, the Smog was too much for him, he was used to being in control of his own body when he played, the Smog took him over in a way that was terrifying to him and it was just him, Artegor seemed quite satisfied to loose himself inside its darkness.

So he did the only thing he could do, he ran, he ran for his life. And he forgot, he forgot about the game he had started so long ago.

He didn't realise that even in his absence that the game continued.

The endgame was revenge, revenge for being so cruelly abandoned, and Artegor was willing to wait a lifetime if necessary.

It all resumed when Aarch formed the Snow Kids and became Coach, back in a position of power, back into his life like nothing had happened. Artegor was Coach too, Coach of the Red Tigers, the Shadows, it didn't really matter. What mattered that he finally got to play Aarch, he was ready now to defeat him.

He'd learnt to play off the board too, that rules were too restrictive, real winners did whatever it took.

He could see it now, they were born to be enemies, opponents. That was how it was meant to be.

He was waiting, waiting now for Aarch to make his next move.

Even after they became friends again, even after Aarch's midlife crisis, he was waiting. He'd always be waiting.

**That's it for this fic, I hope that I didn't make any errors in this fic; I wanted to write some Aarch/Artegor with a chess theme**, **and although I can play, I'm not very good so…Also, I know my characterisation of Aarch tends to have him as being more manipulative than is generally acknowledged, but I really do think that he enjoys power (as seen by his attempts at rigid control over the Snow Kids) but that his friendly manners mean that it's not as obvious as it is with Artegor. But anyways, that's enough from me. Review please!**


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